


Eden

by Fratboybry



Series: No Rest for the Wicked [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, F/F, F/M, Worldbuilding, You gotta read to get the gist, lil angsty lil fluffy, monarchy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fratboybry/pseuds/Fratboybry
Summary: Four monarchs of two kingdoms meet to marry, but they all have eyes for those they cannot have.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Read to get the gist. This is just a character intro. I’m gay and tired, so just yell at me in the comments if there’s a problem.

  
***

The castle was much too large and much too full. Heavy footsteps ran down the hallway trying to reach the ballroom before someone else would. Everyone she knew was guilty of something, and if she didn’t get there first, the night would end in everything she loved going up in flames.

She ran faster.

***

When Waverly was very young, her mother told her to always dress as though she is ready to address the people at any given moment, but could still easily run a knife through any man’s throat who dared interrupt.

In her world, all the beautiful things were horrible things bound by lies and guilt, with a shiny cover for the people to see and to hide what they’d done. She mustn’t be an exception.

So she wore the cream dress. It was appropriate for the occasion, meeting the man she was to marry. The roses embroidered across the top of the dress, down the sides and around the hem were meticulously done, classy and hinting at future romance, done subtly enough not to be gaudy, but prominent enough that the national press would foam at the mouth over the symbolism.

When the press release the pictures and the story to the waiting public, they’ll be so enraptured with the grandeur of it all, that no one will notice the stems that connected the beautiful roses were lined with sharp, little thorns.

***

What makes a leader?

Xavier’s been asked the question a million times. He would always say it’s to put your people first, do everything you can for them and everything you do must be because of them. That’s all it takes.

That’s why he’s sitting in a classy black car with a bulletproof exterior and tinted windows to meet a woman he’s only known about and never actually known, to marry her in a month.

Because when you’re a leader, everything you do is for others. When you’re a leader, you don’t get the freedom to do whatever you want. When you’re a leader, you sacrifice all you have so that others may become better. Being a leader is very simple. All it requires is everything you are. It’s that simple, that’s all it takes.

***

John Henry sits in an identical car three back.

He doesn’t think about being a leader, he already knows he’s failed. He was told the same thing about what makes a leader that Xavier was told when they were young. They grew up together. They fought and trained, matured and spoke, toured and fought even harder. But he’s not here to fight, he’s here to lose.

Xavier has always been better than him. He’s had quicker instincts, he’s a better public speaker, he’s more charming and more elegant, he’s a better soldier. He’s smart enough to know not to fall in love with one of his mother’s handmaids, and has enough common sense to know not to leave her behind because of the demands of his job.

John Henry was told that this was his chance to look good in new people’s eyes, to finally become as respected and revered as Xavier is. John Henry is in a new place that will soon become his home, but he isn’t looking out the window at the foreign people that will soon become his own. John Henry sits in an identical car three back with his eyes closed so no tears slip out.

John Henry isn’t here to win the favor of public or to even the score between him and Xavier and isn’t here to fall in love with an heiress and live the happily ever after the press will try to sell.

John Henry is here because he was stupid enough to get them caught. He isn’t here to fight and win, only to quietly lose. He’s not here to be the leader that’s expected of him.

He’s already failed.

***

The problem with the monarchy was that there was too much elaboration on culture and military tradition, and not enough fixation on designing pants that felt like joggers, Wynonna decided.

She waited in the expansive foyer, pacing as much as she could without looking deranged to the detail that waited by the door. The golden embroidery on the cuffs and epaulettes of her military shirt mirrored the gold detailing on the walls around her. The red sash that started at the back of her belt, draped over her shoulder, and ended at the front of her belt was the same rich crimson that all soldiers, front line or honor guard alike, wore on their fatigues as a symbol of allegiance to the country and to the blood of those who fell to establish it. She was a princess, of course, as indicated by the careful styling of her loose hair and the flowing black skirt that was the same color of her shirt. But she was a soldier forthright, as obvious to anyone by her wild eyes and quick tongue as much as the medals that shone and clinked against one another softly on the side of her shirt where the sash wasn’t.

She was a machine of war, with her quick brain and hands that dripped with blood. She wasn’t the fragile effeminate things her sisters were, not the respected queen Willa was, nor the beloved humanitarian and figurehead Waverly was. She was the other sister, who in reclusiveness and out of the eyes of the press, checked on deployed servicemen to make sure they were given proper supplies and funding, who lived and laughed alongside them, who trained every day of every passing year by them, and who sobbed into her pillow when a list of names of those who wouldn’t becoming home reached her office, because she knew their lives were her responsibility.

The press may enjoy to make her off as the reclusive princess, the other sister, the middle child, but she wouldn’t make this a reason to ridicule her this time. She tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves one more time before straightening her back and leveling her gaze. The situation before her called her to be something other than a soldier, something other than just a princess, and Wynonna had no idea what it was.

She didn’t know how be what was needed of her, and it was terrifying.

***

How far are we willing to go for family?

Nicole Haught sat in the passengers seat of the lead car and watched for any person or group that would potentially put a gun to her head, or even worse, put a gun to the head of her charges.

She’s been training for this day as long as she’s been alive. She grew up in the castle, alongside Xavier and Doc, trained and prepared for any situation put before her. She knew the two guests of honor that the black car parade was for, and she knew they trusted her to do this job better than they would anyone else.

She had a job, and she would not fail. This was her duty, for her people, for her nation, for the two closest things she’s ever had to best friends, and for the family back home that tracked her every move.

She sat with one hand holding a radio close to her face, thumb sitting on the dispatch trigger, checking and rechecking with all security that there were no threats in their area or the one they were about to enter. The other hand was clutched tight and out of sight in her pant pocket, so the driver of the car wouldn’t be able to see how badly it shook and how the index finger kept tracing and retracing the pattern of a family crest engraved into the signet ring on her thumb.

How far are we willing to go for family? How many times can they disappoint us until we stop fighting for them?

***


	2. Foreigner’s God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long overdue update. American gods is next.

By the time the black car procession stopped outside the front entrance of the grand palace, press and people alike were pressed up against all corners of the security fence. The honor guard was formed and ready in immaculate uniforms, and two princesses and a queen waited in between two neat rows of them to meet the men that would become their family.

Xavier’s door opened first, and by the time a perfectly polished dress shoe stepped out onto monarchy red carpet, a second door opened for John Henry to exit as well.

Xavier straightened immediately after stepping out of the vehicle, already having smoothed out any non-existent wrinkles his suit may have shown, whereas his counterpart just barely stumbled out of the car, and had to straighten his uniform before he could join Xavier to walk towards their hosts. Once they stood side by side and paused to look at each other, Nicole stepped silently out, and did a quick perimeter sweep through her ray-bans, and then walked around the side of the car to shadow the two noblemen as they made their first impressions.

Waverly held herself impossibly higher as the two men in suits walked their way. Wynonna bit back a sigh, finally accepting that this was to be her future and there was nothing she could do about it. Willa, who stood between them, already married and already crowned, took confident steps forward with a smile.

“Gentleman, what an honor to have your company this morning!” She announced grandly, more for the press than for those she was supposed to be addressing.

Xavier bowed his head the slightest bit as he had been trained to do, and raised it higher than it’s been before with a charming smile. “Your majesty, it is a privilege to make your acquaintance.” His tone almost made it sound sincere.

The following dialogue was scripted and proper, though the moments that ensued were anything but.

Waverly had been instructed to gaze at Xavier as if it was love at first sight, but that scenario hadn’t factored in the redheaded guard behind him. Waverly couldn’t tear her eyes away from the tall, muscled figure that watched over his shoulder, and she wasn’t the only one.

Xavier knew his eyes should be drawn to Waverly, and yet it took all his willpower to keep them off of the woman to the left of the queen.

Wynonna was well aware she was meant to marry her reclusive male counterpart, John Henry, and while she would admit he had a very attractive look to him, Xavier was a hottie with the body.

Nicole didn’t dare look towards Waverly. She’d already seen photographs, and had already been made aware of the security measures taken to protect the foreign princess. She kept her head on a swivel, fought the urge to trace the stock of the pistol hidden inside her black jacket, and waited for an assassin to pop out of the crowd.

John Henry didn’t look at anything in particular at all.

Before it could be much of anything, Willa was already inviting the guests inside, they followed dutifully, and Nicole was leading the security procession to escort them in.

***

Ixania, a powerful nation built on the trust of honor, loyalty, and the expanse of cold and near impassable forests, was often misunderstood by foreigners.

While their traditions seemed strange and primitive, those who were not born into them would never see how prosperous and and well-kept the future became.

The state of the nation was best described as ‘A monarchy, of sorts’. During its formation at the end of the Great War, it was made apparent that corruption in the government could not be tolerated. So, as many countries resorted to democracies to rebuild their country, Ixania drafted a constitution declaring the expectations of its people, crowned a queen, and withdrew into the isolation of the north.

Over the course of the past seventy years, the country has thrived. There are no laws, only the expectations of each individual citizen. If someone were to commit a crime, they would stand before a council of elected citizens who would decide the punishment for a misdemeanor.

For a heavier crime, the accused would stand trial against the Council of the Wise, consisting of 20 people of both the House of Nobility and of the common workforce, all having been deemed worthy of their position. At the head, the General and the Monarch. These meetings were not common.

Typically, the child of the queen would be first considered to become the next monarch. However, if it is evident the child does not possess the mental stability and intelligence from a young age, the next born is considered, and so on. If no heir to the throne is deemed worthy, the Council of the Wise gathers to determine a new bloodline to take the throne.

Usually, if one child is deemed fit for the throne (or the position as figurehead of family), another is deemed worthy to serve in a military position. The other children are given more options as what they may do with their lives.

In the case of the Haught family, first-born Nicole made it very apparent from a very young age that she was not fit for sitting quietly in one room for the majority of the day. She was however, very clever and quite enjoyed running wild outside, and her younger brother was very quiet and very smart anyway.

For that reason, eldest Nicole was sent to Wolf’s Peak, the premier military training academy deep into the heart of the mountains and forest, at the age of seven. Avriel, five at the time, had a few more years until his academic studies really kicked up. And Hayley, barely three, was still undetermined.

It was here in the isolated tundra of Wolf’s Peak, that Nicole met Xavier Dolls and John Henry Holliday for the first time.

As complicated as the circumstance and scenery seems to foreigners, the children were able to accomplish a semi-normal childhood. In the mornings, they were expected to stand at attention for roll call, but were permitted to leave early under the assumption they wouldn’t cause any trouble in the spare time, and couldn’t stand still for longer than ten minutes anyway.

They ate military rations in the mess hall, traded food when it was mutually beneficial, stole when it wasn’t. Their afternoons were full of military training, learning to march, learning to survive the elements with the bare essentials, then learning how to survive the elements without. Evenings were full of required reading, drawing maps, learning the proper way to shake someone’s hand, how to assemble a uniform with delicate precision. After dinner, they were allowed an hour or so to be children, then Nicole would be made to trek back to the women’s barracks under the watchful and bemused eyes of her considerably older peers. John Henry and Xavier were given a seperate sleeping area, in which they were always under constant supervision. Guards manned their chambers all night, so that no one may harm the rightful heir and the adopted son.

The children flourished in their environment, but only when they were a trio.

On the fifth Monday of spring, an armored car would roll into the heart of camp and deposit priceless cargo. Two weeks after the end of summer, the boys would climb back into the same vehicle, wave goodbye to Nicole as stoically as they could, and go back to the capital to continue their studies for the monarchy.

Nicole spent her autumns picking at food, vividly remembering and missing summer. Winter was spent in a considerable amount of layers, nearly complacent with her circumstance, but disgruntled all the same. Spring was spent anxiously, and her meal intake fluctuated with her mood, her bunk was constantly in motion as she slept from her tossing and turning, and the warm layers gradually fell away. Summers were for shirt and pants and that’s it, eating competitions in the mess y’all when the commanders weren’t looking, and roughhousing as much as possible to make up for lost time.

For the rest of the year, Nicole was the best in her class for her age. But in the summer, she _excelled_.

Nicole and Xavier would spar for hours on end, knowing as well as anyone the other’s weak spots. John Henry spent his free time perfecting marksmanship alone.

By the time the trio graduated Wolf’s Peak, John Henry was the quickest draw in three generations, Xavier was a force to be reckoned with both in fatigues and in a perfectly tailored suit, and Nicole was a proper wild thing belonging to the mountains and the forest.

The trip to the Ghost River had been expected. Xavier knew he was getting married off as soon as he’d finished his second year of studies, and John Henry figured he’d do exactly what Xavier did, just not as well and more quietly, as most all things went.

It made sense, the marriage. Ixania, _the savages of the north_ , made up of disgruntled democratic Americans, minorities, displaced indigenous peoples, and veterans of the Great War, and Ghost River, _the rich assholes from Europe_ , formed by the European upper class, French-Canadiens, and middle class midwestern and east coast Americans. What better way for Ghost River to finally have an efficient military resource, and for Ixania to begin to emerge from their self imposed exile?

It was such a clever plan, no one even thought to consider the four young monarchs who would immediately lose all their freedom and become pawns in a much greater scheme. 


	3. A Conversation with the Savages

Once comfortably inside the castle, facades could begin to drop, and pleasant conversation became scarce. Willa, having fulfilled her role as the dutiful queen, took the arm of her useless husband and sashayed away at the first opportunity.

Wynonna, now the eldest, barely shook her head. “My apologies, gentlemen. My sister must have important business to attend to, lest she would’ve stayed.”

John Henry barely cracked a smile at the obvious lie they were trying to play out, but covered it with a cough.

“I would assume the General would have important business to attend to as well.” He prompted.

“Nothing quite as important as this.” She would admit the man wasn’t hard to look at, but with Xavier standing just a few feet to his right…

Just as the thoughts came, Wynonna willed them away. Xavier was not hers to have.

“The palace may be properly introduced to you tomorrow,” Waverly intervened. Gracefully sidling up next to her sister, Waverly conducted herself just as she’d been trained.

“As our predetermined schedule recommends, I am to show you to your quarters. We’ve prepared three of our nicest rooms in the West Wing for your convenience.”

“You honor us, your Highness.” Xavier responded smoothly. “Our Northern traditions mean we are comfortable with the simplest provisions. However, we appreciate your generosity, and we are absolutely sure to be delighted in whatever accommodations you have prepared.”

Had it been coming from anywhere else, the almost refusal of something they were expected to be given would’ve confused Waverly and probably wrote off as offensive. But when the young prince said it, Waverly almost wanted to scold herself for not reading more into their traditions. Almost.

(In truth, Waverly did a great amount of preparation for their guests. She read of the unorthodox guides of succession they called a government, and the ‘laws’ citizens were expected to follow. There’s no way the system should work in any functioning democracy, and yet, these Northerners made it so.

_And in full honesty, Waverly didn’t quite know what to think of them. They were charismatic and well behaved, of course - but that didn’t erase the stories of the savages who slit the throats of their enemies, stole the wives and children as their new whores and bastards, retreating into their iron fortresses as winter set in. It was common across the world to gossip about the isolated people of the tundra and the mountains, and Ghost River was no exception as the closest neighbor. And yet, none of her guests looked like ruthless barbarians. In what was left of the world after the Fallout and Great War, Ixania proved themselves an enigma time and time again._ )

Waverly collected herself to respond, but Nicole’s gaze caught her own and her breath hitched.

Concern was evident in the furrow of Nicole’s brows, her back was taunt, and her eyes incredibly serious. This woman, barely Waverly’s superior by a few years, was stoic beyond how any person should be. Waverly wondered if Nicole had ever been given a proper childhood or a period of life in which she was happy and unbothered, but was already well aware of the answer.

Their stares held for barely a moment, then Nicole looked away, pretending to analyze a very hostile looking stretch of wall.

Inaudibly swallowing down the lump in her throat, Waverly soldiered on. “It’s very refreshing to be in the audience of company who are genuinely content with our provisions and welcoming. We have played host to many spoiled aristocrats who expect to be treated like the new Jesus.”

Wynonna stole a glance at her sister with a raised eyebrow. The realization of informality in her comment hit Waverly all at once, and for a brief moment she hated these people and how they made her forget herself.

But the northerners only laughed. John Henry smiled at the floor as Xavier gave a genuine chuckle.

“You honor us, your Grace. As leaders to our people, we are bound by our service to others. As the middle ground between our country and your own, we are compelled to be as little as a hassle to you as possible. I know I speak for my brother and our accompaniment when I thank you for your hospitality and genuine interest in our care. We were told to expect the highest level of class and excellence from the princess, but you have exceeded our expectations in every way, if I may be so bold to say, your Grace.”

To the guards who couldn’t help but hear their conversation, as well as any maid passing by, the conversation would seem very classy and easy, almost as if Waverly and Xavier were in love already. However, the heirs knew Xavier only complimented Waverly as a way to make his words as informal as her own, extending a form of olive branch and show there was no harm caused. Already, there was a level of respect between the couple to-be, but it was understood that there was no real romantic attraction.

Waverly blushed all the same and ducked her head for only a moment. “Thank you, your Highness. Your affirmation means more than than I can say.”

Nicole restrained a scoff. She trained in interrogation for years. She knew when someone was lying.

“Please, if you’ll allow me to lead you to your quarters.” Remembering her role, Waverly escorted them farther down the hall, and avoided heavy conversation.

These northerners were nothing like she’d ever encountered before, and she couldn’t tell if she was scared or excited.

***

John Henry wasn’t always a failure. He’d once been a boy who loved another boy as his best friend, and loved another boy as something more. This was the beginning of every mistake he would ever make.

Wyatt was three years older and kind. His uniform was always immaculate, but his eyes brimmed with a mischievous kind of mirth. He used to escort Xavier and John Henry to Wolf’s Peak every year,and would laugh from the front passengers seat while all the other escorts would mumble seriously into their hidden mics. His uniform had two medals that would always clatter against one another, announcing his arrival wherever he went. He taught John Henry to melt his shoe polish before he used it to get a better shine with less effort, but made it sound like a secret only the two of them knew. When John Henry wore his specially tailored uniform, he always looked immaculate because Wyatt helped him put it on.

Xavier’s mother, commonly known as ‘The Good Queen Kassandra’, would make jokes at the breakfast table about John Henry’s little crush. Xavier’s father, commonly known as ‘the Bear King Alexander’, said it was good that John Henry had a role model as excellent as the Captain. Xavier, known commonly as ‘The Prince’ in public or ‘Little Lion Man’ in private, would tease his brother endlessly about his fixation with their family friend. It was adolescent obsession, and no one said anything else about it.

Wyatt’s accent was a little bit different than everyone else’s, because he wasn’t ‘of the true north’. His homeland was once a southern country bordering Ixania, until the president turned into a dictator. Wyatt was one of the leaders of the rebel forces trying to topple their government, and the youngest. When the northern country joined the fight in aid of the people, Wyatt’s brigade charged the country’s seat of power with the northern Calvary boxing in any remaining enemy forces. While not the source of the revolution nor the most influential piece of it, Wyatt’s role urging the young people to action was undeniably significant. He was awarded top military honors and a home at the Royal family’s main residence, where he was given a job as a mentor to the prince and adopted son.

At Wolf’s Peak, the great beast of a camp slumbered into easy sleep rapidly as the sun set. It was in Wyatt’s cabin, with moonlight pouring in through the window and casting everything in a deep shade of monochrome blue, that John Henry came alive. The same lips that tugged at the corners with juvenile delinquency made war paths up his neck, whispered “King” in his ear, and taught John Henry what it meant to be conquered.

With finger shaped bruises decorating his hips like medals of his own, the angry imprint of teeth tucked gently under his collarbone, John Henry played the part of Bachelor Prince well. He waltzed excellently with the daughters of Captains and Commanders, charmed his way through the Queen’s circle of friends, and kissed babies with grace and class. He the knowledge of two jealous eyes dutifully following him under the thin veil of a King’s order made him smile to himself all the while.

When Wyatt threw him onto his own bed, devouring every inch of skin as it was pulled from his tailored suits, the young prince couldn’t help but laugh into the kisses that fell like punches from the mouth of a model soldier. As he lay in bed, intently listening to the even breaths of the other boy (because that’s all they were back then, not children but not quite men yet), John Henry wondered if this is what it felt to love a knife.

When John Henry was just shy of nineteen, nationalists rebelled against the new King’s rule. Wyatt laughed as he left, telling John Henry to behave and he’d be back in no time.

When he stood outside a few months later, the country victorious in handling the rebels, he was in his perfect uniform that the King helped him put on. He’d been told not to cry, so he didn’t, not even when he watched Wyatt’s casket go by.

Two weeks later, the castle celebrated his birthday, and it was the first one he could remember without Wyatt. It was on that day that John Henry swore to himself he wouldn’t love someone that much ever again, especially not a boy.

When they went to Wolf Peak’s a few months later, he purposefully left Nicole and Xavier to go to the range in the evening. His friends protested but didn’t push, and he set off to be perfect in something. If he was perfect, he reasoned, he couldn’t mess up.

Time marched on, he met Kate, he wasn’t as quick learning things as Xavier, he began his mandatory military service, and Kate became something more.

In the original plan, Xavier was supposed to marry Waverly, and that would be the end of it. But then John Henry and one of the queen’s maids disappeared, were found in a closet an hour later, and it was decided that John Henry should find use in someplace other than the palace.

So Wynonna and John Henry were set to be betrothed, and Nicole was assigned as their official escort.

To John Henry, he couldn't have saved Xavier, but because of his inadequacy, got another girl condemned to a life she didn’t want. During the visit, he couldn’t look Wynonna in the eye, no matter how much he tried.

***

Nicole laid in bed that night knowing she should be sleeping. The morning would come early, and with it a slew of responsibilities.

She rubbed her signet ring like she always did when she was nervous. When the familiar motion failed to ease her mind, she rose from the bed to cross to the mirror. Under her white tee, the ink on her skin was evident. Peeling her shirt off, she eyed the designs.

On each wrist, a cuff about half an inch wide resided since her indictment into the military. All soldiers bore them, a symbol signifying their binding duty to the service of the people.

As she advanced in ranks, the skin above each cuff became more elaborate. Upon her entry into the Queensgaurd, a complete band just below her elbow was added, in the design of a crown encircling her arm.

Below her right collarbone was the crest of her family, an inch in diameter. A single dot above the middle of the crest signified her status as a legitimate heir, the Roman numeral I left unshaded in the middle signified her as the eldest. The design was shifted to the left, leaving the right underside of her collarbone bare. If she were to marry, her partner’s insignia would join her house crest. Her father fought her whole life to keep that side empty.

At the base of her neck, where the head and spine met, the outline of a Wolf’s head signified her status. It was a gift at the end of her first tour.

Whereas the designs usually brought a feeling of steadiness to Nicole, now they seemed to crush her under their weight. Pulling her shirt back on, Nicole trudged back to the bed. Laying down on top of the covers, Nicole closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

All that came were thoughts and images she forbade herself to dream, of a princess that was absolutely not hers to have.

Nicole sighed, preparing for a long night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here: 
> 
> Instagram: Fratboybry  
> Tumblr: lexasfavoritecandle {personal} | Fratboybry {writing only} 
> 
> If there’s a problem or a question, please post a comment!


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